“How kind of you to say, Colonel Fitzwilliam, but tell me, have others tried to malign my character this night, as well?” Lizzy turned a glare on her mother’s good friend. “For if they have, I wish to be made aware—”
“Oh Lizzy,” Miss Georgiana jumped up and rushed to her sister-in-law’s side, “I beg that you will not listen to such unkind words.”
“Lizzy,” Mrs. Phillips added quickly, “your poor mamma’s nerves will be overtaxed if she learns of these claims. Pray do keep your own council on these matters.”
“I must depart, ladies.” Colonel Fitzwilliam gave a slight bow, but his glance rested on Lizzy as he continued, “Perhaps it would be best if you discussed some matter of fashion for the rest of the evening.” Then he turned and walked away.
“Ohhh,” Lizzy ground out as she stared after his departing figure, “how could he listen to such nonsense?”
“Mrs. Darcy,” Mary King took a step closer to Georgiana and Lizzy, “perhaps I could have a word—”
“Oh, Lizzy, what will my brother say when he hears these claims?” Georgiana threw herself in Lizzy’s arms and clung to her. “I could not bear to lose you—”
“Miss Georgiana, please, calm yourself so as not to distress Mrs. Darcy.” Miss Brown took Georgiana’s arm. “Come, let us get some refreshment. You must be ready to collapse after this long night.”
“She is fine with me, Miss Brown,” Lizzy smiled and hooked her arm through Georgiana’s. “I think she will do better after a few words with her brother.” Lizzy turned to Maggie, “I am certain you are the one who needs substance after your experience.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Darcy,” After a curtsy, Maggie glanced around as the other women drifted away. Lady Lucas departed first, no doubt wishing to avoid another tangle with Lizzy. Mrs. Phillips gave Lizzy a long glance then trailed behind Lady Lucas, no doubt hoping to mend fences with the ranking lady in the county. Maggie turned to the remaining member of the group and said quickly, “Miss King, perhaps I could accompany you to the refreshment table?”
***
As Lizzy led Georgiana away, Maggie stepped close and forced Mary to turn away from her attempt to speak to Mrs. Darcy. Turning toward the refreshment table on the other side of the room, Maggie kept watch of the other guests as she said. “Mary, whatever are you thinking? Why did you approach Mrs. Darcy in such a manner? Are things not bad enough, but you risk my position and the good pay packet I need to live on by speaking with my employer’s wife at such a time?”
“Calm yourself, Maggie, or you will attract attention,” Mary whispered as she walked past groups of guests, but disappointment twisted her insides. She had never claimed a friendship with Mrs. Darcy, and especially not after Wickham turned from Lizzy to pay attention to her. His disregard of Lizzy’s fondness, should have alerted Mary to his character for he quickly turned his attentions to her when local gossip revealed she had inherited a fortune. But Wickham's charm had clouded her judgment, as she suspected it had Lizzy's for a time.
Yet now, Wickham was dead and even with his actions clouding their past, Mary felt she needed to align herself with Lizzy to fight the claims against them. She had almost succeeded in capturing Lizzy’s attention, before Miss Darcy interrupted.
Walking faster, Mary said. “I need to speak with her that is all.”
“Mary! I beg you, please do not speak to Mrs. Darcy. I know better than most the affection with which Mr. Darcy regards his wife. To vex her is to turn his good opinion aside, as well, and I cannot be without employment.”
Mary glanced about them before whispering. “Why are you so certain you will have a position to go back to after events of this night?”
“Whatever do you mean?” Maggie gasped. “Surely you do not believe Mr. Darcy will dismiss me because I discovered the body. I cannot even consider such a possibility.”
“When the body you discovered was that of Mr. Wickham, anything is possible.” Mary sighed. “Maggie, need I remind you that once your connection to Wickham is revealed, you could be dismissed immediately?”
“Mary, do not speak such words, I beg you. I must have employment if I am to keep my son—”
“Hush, Maggie,” Mary cast a careful glance around them, “as Captain Carter reminded me earlier this evening, on this night the walls have ears. Surely, the vile words from Lady Lucas proved such to be the case.”
Maggie glanced over her shoulder as if suspecting the murderer was behind her. “If that be the case, why did you attempt to speak with Mrs. Darcy? And do not deny the fact. You were intent on making conversation with her, even before Lady Lucas cast slurs on her character. But I can assure you, Mrs. Darcy is all that Miss Georgiana claimed and more. I would be fortunate to work in that house the rest of my days.”
Mary studied the selection of biscuits, then selected one for her plate. “I only thought to suggest we compare notes to solve this murder as both our names have been bandied as possible suspects.”
***
After much debate on her plan, Mary finally convinced Maggie to return to the company of her young charge. Left to her own devices, Mary trailed through the guests, in her renewed attempt to enter into a discussion with Mrs. Darcy. However, it was not as easy as she had hoped.
Mrs. Darcy stood with Mr. Darcy and Georgiana on the outskirts of a family group, gathered around Lydia Wickham. Mary’s courage almost deserted her at thoughts of another confrontation Lydia this evening. After the venom Lydia spewed earlier, and the suspicion her claims cast on Mary’s character, Mary was not certain she could hold her tongue if Lydia started ranting again. Yet, disproving the false claims was of the utmost importance to her future and Maggie’s, so she had no other option but to attempt the conversation.
Approaching the group on Georgiana’s side, Mary managed to smile as she said. “There you are, Miss Darcy. I do so appreciate the loan of your companion on my trip to the refreshment table. Miss Brown was a great comfort, but I sent her back to your corner seat. I feared keeping her away too long and infringing on your kindness. And to be quite truthful, her concern for you is upmost in her thoughts and she wished to return to your side.”
“Thank you, Miss King, I am happy with Miss Brown.” Georgiana glanced at Lizzy as she said, “I am in excellent hands now, but I am certain there are things Lizzy and my brother wish to discuss in private.”
Despite the Darcys' objections, Georgiana took her leave. She had only taken a few steps, when she met Miss Brown, who was coming in search of her. Georgiana took hold of her companion’s arm, and urged Miss Brown back to the familiar corner they had occupied most of the evening.
Miss Darcy’s quick reaction left Mary standing on the edge of the group, near Mrs. and Mr. Darcy, but too close to Lydia for Mary's comfort. Deciding not to risk drawing the widow's attention, Mary turned away. Hopes of speaking to Mrs. Darcy denied yet again, Mary stared about her. What now? Her attempts to speak to Mrs. Darcy had ended in failure, but she refused to accept that state of mind. She was no more a murderer than she believed Lizzy Darcy to be, but how could she prove that fact?
“Miss King,” Jane Bingley approached with a smile, “would you escort me to the refreshment table? I find I am famished, but I have no wish to trudge through this crowd alone.” Jane hooked her arm in Mary’s and urged her away from the Bennet family. “If we appear to be involved in deep conversation, perhaps no one will stop to ask if we have any news.”
Mary glanced over her shoulder. The intense expression on Mr. Bingley’s face as he watched them walk away, made her wonder how innocent Jane Bingley's actions actually were. Lizzy was speaking intently with Mr. Darcy, and did not appear to notice their departure, so perhaps Jane was acting only as a good host as Mary had been left standing alone after Miss Darcy dragged Maggie away. So Mary smiled as she replied. “I am happy to oblige, Mrs. Bingley.”
“Oh, Miss King, do call me Jane.” The kindness and sweet smile most often associated with Jane, covered her face. “I want us t
o be friends.”
“I would suggest you call me Mary, but with your sister called the same name, I think confusion could reign. But, please, call me Mary King, and do let us be friends.” With a lighter step, Mary almost skipped toward the refreshment table. This was twice Jane had voiced her wish for them to become better acquainted. Once could be good manners, but repeating her intent surely meant she was sincere. “How are you maintaining your calm manner with all that is going on?”
“In truth,” Jane paused and turned to Mary, “I am sorely distressed. You must have heard by now that all of my family are suspects for the murder.”
“But are we not all to be questioned?” Mary tried to remain calm. Perhaps Jane knew more than she did. “Pray do not worry, Mrs. Bingley.” Then at Jane’s quick look, Mary added in a tentative voice. “I mean, Jane.”
“To be quite frank, I am greatly concerned.” Jane lowered her gaze to her gloved hands as she added, “Lizzy could not commit such an act. Yet Colonel Forester and Colonel Fitzwilliam consider her a possible suspect, just as they do Mr. Darcy and the rest of my family.”
“We cannot all be guilty of the murder,” Mary struggled to keep her tone even as excitement rushed through her, “yet this is all we hear. Perhaps we should leave the colonels to question the guests and try to discover who murdered Mr. Wickham ourselves.”
“I am happy to hear you say such, Mary, for I had the same thought myself. But my husband fears I will only make matters worse.”
“How can things get any worse, Jane? The last I heard most of your guests are suspected murders. We must mount our own search for the murderer.”
***
“Pray do not concern yourself, dear husband.” Lizzy stepped closer to him and put a hand on his arm. “Georgiana is handling the situation quite well. It is as if she has only distant memories of Wickham from her childhood.” Lizzy gazed after the young girl and Miss Brown as they returned to their corner seats. “I fear I can not say the same for Miss Brown. Her complexion remains the color of clotted cream.”
“Indeed, it must have been quite a shock when she discovered the body.” Darcy mused, but his attention rested on Jane and her red-haired guest as they walked away, rather than his sister’s companion.
“I have no doubt it was, but even Lydia’s countenance has improved by now, yet Miss Brown still appears as pale as the dead.” Lizzy frowned. “Was she acquainted with Wickham?”
“Darcy, your attendance is required, if you please.” Bingley sent his wife’s favorite sister a smile. “Sorry to intrude, Mrs. Darcy.”
“Dear Mr. Bingley, I insist you call me Lizzy or I will think you do not approve of me as a sister.” Her teasing smile brought color to Bingley’s face and Lizzy quickly changed the subject. “Truthfully, it is no bother, for I was about to abandon my husband so I might check on Lydia.”
As Lizzy moved away, Bingley urged Darcy in the opposite direction. “Come, Darcy. I do not wish the ladies to overhear.”
“What now, Charles?” Darcy demanded in an agreeable tone. “Has yet another of your guests come to a grisly end?”
“Do not even mention the possibility in jest. I am counting on your level head, Darcy.” Bingley sighed as he considered his next words. “I fear all this talk of murder has put suspicious in my head, and I wish your opinion. Much as I regret voicing the words, I must ask. Have you made notice of Miss King?”
“Sorry, Charles,” Darcy drawled. “My attention was focused on my wife, not your charming guests. Come, Charles, stop dithering. What has happened to put you in such a state?”
“I blame my suspicious behavior on a body having been found in my library.” Bingley paused and glanced around the room. “But Miss King was very keen to speak with Lizzy after your sister departed. When Lizzy paid no notice, Miss King appeared...well, trite as it may sound, the poor woman seemed lost.”
“Lost? In this room filled with your guests?” Darcy demanded. “Really, Charles, how is it possible you are so suspicious of your own guests?”
“It is not a situation I would wish for,” Bingley angled his chin and ignored the heat to his cheeks, “but someone murdered Wickham. We know not that it was a guest. Yet no mention has been made of a stranger hanging about the house or grounds.”
“A very good point, my friend. Do forgive my attempt to lighten your mood.” Darcy gazed about the room. “What action do you suggest?”
“It pains me to reach this point, but I suggest we post guards at the door to keep the guests contained.” Bingley released a deep breath. “But I fear Jane will never forgive me if I follow through with the suggestion.”
“Ah, but if the guards are there to protect the guests, I am certain Jane would approve. In fact, I would not be surprised Sir William made the suggestion himself.”
***
Lizzy watched Darcy and Bingley walk away, then moved to stand near her sister’s chair. “Lydia, how are you feeling?”
“How do you suppose your sister feels?” Mrs. Bennet's quick retort was accompanied by a glare that would bring a strong man to tears. “Her husband is dead and a guest of Jane’s is responsible—”
“Mamma, please. We do not—”
“Mamma, pray do not cast the blame on Jane,” Lydia’s defense surprised all within hearing. “Jane and Lizzy are my only hope of mixing in society and I should not like them vexed.”
“Vexed?” Mrs. Bennet rolled her expressive eyes and gave a snort. “Who said anything about vexing your sisters? I simply stated the truth. Poor Wickham—”
“Mammaaa,” Lydia wheeled in a tone she had perfected long ago, “pray do not remind me with every breath. I am fully aware my poor husband is dead.”
“Oh, Lydia.” Lizzy motioned for Kitty and Mary to vacate the chairs beside Lydia and sat down as close as possible. “I know you are suffering from all that has happened, but please try to clear your head and consider the matter. We must discover who did this deed. Now that your first shock has passed, can you recall anyone who wanted to harm Wickham?”
When Lydia’s expression started to slip into the obstinate look from her youth, Lizzy quickly added. “I ask out of concern for your safety. What if the murderer intends to harm you, as well? Moreover, we must consider Jane. Her chance at gaining acceptance from Bingley’s sisters and society might be ruined if this murder goes unsolved.”
“Jane! All you care about is Jane!” Lydia cried. “What about me? My life is ruined. And you care nothing for how I feel.”
“Oh, Lydia, of course I am concerned for you. Yet the questions must be answered. I believed you would feel less vulnerable speaking with—”
“Lizzy, do stop pestering poor Lydia in her time of need. If you must involve yourself, bring her some refreshment, and stop asking senseless questions.” Mrs. Bennet turned to her younger daughters. “Mary, fetch my smelling salts. I feel one of my spells coming on.”
“It is often said—”
“Mary! If you repeat one more quote, I—”
“Mamma, please!” Lizzy observed stares from guests closest to them and clenched her jaw. Nothing had changed. Mamma married off three daughters, but that feat still failed to improve her disposition. Even faced with Lydia’s loss, she made demands. And poor Jane lived so near their parents, she likely heard more complaints than a new wife needed.
“Please what, Lizzy?” Mrs. Bennet’s cheeks filled with spots of color. “I notice you have not overcome that obstinate streak since your marriage to Mr. Darcy, and I must say it is not becoming in the least.”
Lizzy clenched stood and clenched her hands in the folds of her gown as she took herself off at a swift pace. If ever she was a mother...
***
“Colonel Forester, this will not do.” Fitzwilliam's words bounced off the walls of books as he stared at the other officer. “You, sir, may return to Brighton, but these guests must face their neighbors on the morrow, and you must not alienate them. We are obliged to question them, but not at the cost of their g
ood names.”
“Why must you put such importance on a good name?” Colonel Forester demanded as he rocked on his heels in front of the fireplace.
“Should we call Sir William from the ballroom and ask him that question?”
“Nay, his ramblings make me long for a battle.”
“From what I have heard, his title was earned for his good name. So I ask you, Colonel, why ruin a name it takes a lifetime to earn?” Fitzwilliam studied the other officer as he prowled about the library.
In their recent absence, the servants had moved Wickham’s body to a room at the back of the house where it would remain until authorities arrived. Candles burned bright and the fire crackled with warm flames, but the stench of death still hung heavily in the room.
If he could have retreated to another room, he would have, but common sense warned it was better to question the suspects at the scene of the crime. Fitzwilliam took a deep breath and added in a low voice. “For some of us, a good name is all we possess.”
“I beg your pardon, sir.” Colonel Forester gave a slight bow. “I could not agree more. Until we are cornered, we know not what we will do to protect that name. If I offended you, Colonel Fitzwilliam, I apologize. I had no intention of doing so.”
“You did not, ’tis events of this eve that gall me. Murder of a man in uniform is unacceptable.” Fitzwilliam paced the room, careful to avoid the dark stains of Wickham’s blood on the floor. Much as he had wanted to strangle Wickham when he tried to lure Georgiana away from the safety of her family, he would never wish this outcome on the man. He deserved a good thrashing for his conniving ways, or perhaps a round of fisticuffs, but never murder. “Who are we to question next?”
“Our time spent taking refreshments gave the guests a chance to—”
“Compare their account of the events.” As he finished the colonel's thought, Fitzwilliam raked a hand through his hair. He wanted this thing done. Wanted Darcy and Lizzy free from suspicion. “I assume you observed all the whispering while we were in the ballroom, as well?”
Who Murdered Mr Wickham Page 14
